


the wise and the cunning

by NalgeneWhore



Series: Elorcan One Shots [87]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Circus, Cute, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NalgeneWhore/pseuds/NalgeneWhore
Relationships: Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre
Series: Elorcan One Shots [87]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636468
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	the wise and the cunning

“Take these,” Ombriel said unkindly, pushing a bundle of clothes into her arms. “And change. You’re filthy.” 

The dark haired, pale skinned woman bit back her sigh and ignored the insult. She nodded demurely, murmuring, “Of course.” She slipped away, walking unencumbered by any pain due to her so-called husband’s support. Elide would miss the steadying brace when they parted ways. 

She would miss it for more ways than that, too. 

Elide blushed like a schoolgirl at the thought. She could only pray that Lorcan wouldn’t be in the tent when she arrived. He would probably scent it on her, with his demi-Fae abilities, her… affection. She quickened her pace, glancing at the setting sun. 

The circus opened at sunset and she knew she didn’t have much time. If she were late, Molly or Nic would exact punishment by taking a larger portion of her earnings than was usually taken. Elide could always feel Lorcan beside her, simmering with rage at their greediness, using every one of Elide’s mistakes to gouge them of more coin. She knew that his anger was only because they needed all the money they could get, not at the mistreatment and thievery. It couldn’t possibly be because of that. 

Elide found her way to their insufficient shelter and slipped inside, grateful to find herself alone. She waited and listened for a minute, ensuring no one was around her. Then, Elide shed her dirty clothes to the slip she always kept on. Before she donned the other garments, she dipped a stray strip of fabric into the wash basin still filled with last night’s water. 

She wiped it over herself and cleaned her face as best she could. Out of the pack, she fetched the hair pins that mysteriously appeared one night after Lorcan and Nic went to the market. Elide took the comb and dragged it through her hair. Then, she pinned her hair up, to wrap in the deep purple, nearly black, scarf. Elide undid the bundle. 

The top was… small. The sleeves were long, but Elide knew they would be tight. She nearly choked on her discomfort. Her only hope now was that the skirt would be large. 

Elide reluctantly took her shift off and folded it, tucking it in the side pouch of the pack. It was the cleanest thing she owned now. 

She donned the pine-green top and fixed it until it covered the most skin as possible. The undersides were still exposed and Elide- Elide hated the tightness, the exposure. She didn’t bother looking at the skirt before she slipped it up her legs. It felt… loose. Elide settled it low on her hips. There seemed to be a draft against the sides of her legs. 

In fear, Elide looked down quickly. The skirt wasn’t a skirt. Two panels of green green fabric covered her backside and between her legs, exposing the side lengths of her legs. 

Her entire stomach and most of her chest was exposed. Elide pinched her skin, shaking. She stumbled back and sat on the cot, her frail body shuddering. 

_It was too cold to not be Morath. This- this was all a trick, the circus, Lorcan wasn’t ever real. In the bowels of the mountains, it was damp and she choked on the scent of mold._

_She whimpered, twisting her arms against the tight hold of the soldiers. They laugh at her, laughing at the thin green robe and bareness of her body beneath._

_Elide heard them talking, talking about how nice she’d feel and how much sweeter the fresh ones are. She dug her heels in harder and they threw her to the ground, slapping their hands across her face._

_She cried, holding her arms above her head, begging them to let up. They dragged her further down, past cell after cell filled with screaming and sobbing witches._

_Someone kicked the door of an empty cell open and tossed her into the lightless pit. One of the soldiers grabbed the back of her robe and it was ripped from her body. Elide cried as her knees slammed into the unforgiving ground. She curled her shoulders, shivering in the chill._

_Looking over her shoulder, she cowered when they leered. Her green robe dangled from his finger, “You won’t need this anymore.”_

“Marion. Marion.” 

Elide snapped her head up, shrinking when she saw Lorcan. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this. 

He stepped in, carrying a plate of food and flatbread. If Elide had been thinking straight, she would’ve wondered if it was for her and if he remembered she hadn’t eaten lunch. “What… is that? You look ridiculous.” He wrinkled his nose. 

Glancing away, Elide blinked her tears away, “Yes, well, I didn’t choose it, Lorcan.” She trembled and shook her head, “I didn’t choose this.” 

He kneeled before her. “They made you wear… this?” Lorcan didn’t look beneath her chin, already having it burned into his mind, like some reason to whet his anger. 

“It’s green,” she whispered. She looked up at him, her eyes lined with silver. “Green, Lorcan.” Elide cringed when the bottom slid against her skin. 

Lorcan nodded thoughtfully, figuring she had some horrific memory associated with the colour green. He stretched his hand out, offering it to her. Elide looked at his offer to help for a long moment. Then, she tentatively put her hand in his. She flipped his over, so that his palm was facing the ground, and traced her fingertips over the various scars marking his brown skin. 

“I can find you different clothes, Marion, if that is what you want me to do.” 

Elide nodded numbly. Lorcan stood, bending his head to fit. He shucked off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Her hands gripped it close and she soaked in his warmth. 

Lorcan picked up his twin scabbard. He could play it off as carrying them for his act. He strapped his swords against his back and moved to leave, but Elide made a noise of protest. Lorcan turned back to her before he knew what he was doing and kneeled once more. “I’m coming back. I’ll come back to you.”

She looked up at him and nodded, just a dip of her chin, but it was consent enough. 

He stood up once more and left the tent, throwing a shimmering shield around it. It would come off as a trick of the light, but no one would dare approach. 

The townspeople who had arrived stayed out of his way, knowing that he was not someone to be in the way of. 

He stalked to the wagon, where Molly and Ombriel were preparing the tickets. 

Nic waited by the back, doing what, Lorcan did not care. When the mortal man looked up at Lorcan, fear bled from him like piss. Lorcan’s power took that panic and feasted on it, pulsing beneath his skin. Nic puffed his chest out, “Your stage is that way.” He jerked his head. “And where is that girl? Men are waiting for the oracle b—“ 

Lorcan’s hand shot out and grabbed his jaw, gripping tightly. “No.” His voice was low and grating, filled with something dangerous. “Shush. I’m talking.” 

The man swallowed and broke out into a cold sweat. 

Weak. 

“Good. Now call the others.” Nic hesitated. “Do I look like someone to disobey, now?” Lorcan trailed his sharp gaze down Nic, his eyes snagging on his pulse point. 

Lorcan didn’t drink blood, but it was more important to build a vaguely animalistic persona.

One second ticked by and Nic weakened, “M-molly! Ombriel, th-there’s something we need to talk about!” Lorcan stood up straight and walked behind the wagon, waiting with his arms crossed, head bent. 

He thought about Elide, wondering if she would ever admit her true name. He thought about her on that cot, her hardly covered body shaking. 

The grasses crunched under their trodden feet and Lorcan didn’t look up until he felt them huddled near, but not too near. 

“The carnival is starting,” Ombriel snapped in her whining tone. “Get to your act, sword-thrower.” 

“Be quiet. We’re not discussing that right now.” He raised his head, slowly. His eyes slid to Nic, “You asked me where the girl was.” His eyes slid to Ombriel’s, “You gave my wife nothing. Give me her regular dress.” 

“No,” Nic sneered. “She’ll gain more money.” He stepped forward, blocking Ombriel and Molly. He stretched his arm out, his rusty blade pointed down. “You’re to stay away from us.” Nic stepped forwards and Lorcan arched his brow at the man’s hubris. “You’re to do your job and control that—“ 

“What did I say about talking?” Lorcan asked. “Shush.” He prowled forward, getting too close for comfort. Lorcan leaned down, “You—“ 

“Get away from him!” Molly shrieked, hitting Lorcan with something, maybe the paper log book. He paused and looked up. “You wretched bastard. We _pay_ for you and that little whore, so watch your mouth.” 

He stepped back, curious about what would happen. 

Nic took his retreat as submission and pressed forward, “She will wear what we tell her to. Her old dress is gone.” 

Quick and quiet as death, Lorcan reached forward and gripped the man’s collar, turning and slamming him into the wall. 

He bared his teeth, letting some of the wildness churn in his eyes. He loosed his magic a little bit more, letting it shadow his long, inhuman canines. “You’ve dressed her like some pay-by-hour opium dependant, worthy of nothing more than a dirty fuck.” Nic struggled. “You will get that woman different clothes, now.” 

Still fighting, Nic gasped out, “Or what?” 

Lorcan chuckled darkly, “I can guarantee you that you do not want to be familiar with ‘or what’.” Abruptly, he stepped back, letting Nic fall to the ground. Lorcan looked down at him and spat, digging the toe of his boot into the man’s soft stomach. “Run along, _boy._ My wife is not someone to keep waiting.” 

Hastily, Nic scrambled to his feet and hurried away, glancing fearfully back at Lorcan. 

Lorcan crossed his arms and turned to Molly, “After tonight, you may want to stop advertising the oracle and the sword-thrower because we’re leaving. And taking _our_ earnings.” 

The woman went red in the face as Ombriel began to splutter. 

“Best get back to work,” Lorcan warned them lowly. “No sense in arguing. Run along now.” 

Ombriel grabbed her aunt’s head and fled back to their booth. Lorcan waited a minute more until Nic came back, shaking as he carried the red skirts and dress Elide was used to. He tossed at Lorcan’s feet. 

Lorcan looked down, blinking slowly. He looked up, “Hand it to me, boy.” The man did as he was told and stood ramrod straight as Lorcan checked the garments. Lorcan nodded in approval, “These will do.” 

Without another word, Lorcan left, stalking back to the tent. Like before, he was given a wide berth. 

When he arrived at the tent, Lorcan said, “Marion.” He was warning her of his arrival. Lorcan pushed through the canvas flaps and entered. 

Elide was in the same place that he’d left her in, his heavy leather jacket drowning her small stature. She looked up at him when he came in, her eyes blank. 

Slowly, and with much more patience than he’d used in a long time, Lorcan kneeled before her once more. He put the stack of clothes in front of her, “These are your regular wear. I’ve told them that we’re leaving after tonight.” 

She reached out and took the long sleeved shirt she normally wore. It was tight, but she would layer more things over top of it. “Leaving?” 

Lorcan nodded, “Yes. Tonight, we’ll leave. We have enough coin to last us until we find the queen.” 

“The queen? You- you’re only here to get to Morath.” 

His dark eyes met hers and subtly, Lorcan shook his head, “No. Not anymore. There’s… something more important I have to see through.” 

A small, pleased grin twisted her lips. Elide looked to the side, her pale cheeks blushing. “Fine. I suppose we can leave. Now turn around.” 

Lorcan turned, knowing that she wanted privacy to change. He heard her rustling around and he picked up the bowl of deer stew he’d brought for her. Earlier that day, when he’d gone hunting, he had taken down a young buck that would provide enough food for the circus and then some. He’d leave the rest here with them, having no way to keep it from rotting when he and Elide were on the road. “You haven’t eaten yet.” 

She paused. “I know.” 

“You should.” 

“I will.” 

_Good_. He didn’t want to say it aloud, like one word would destroy his poor façade of detachment. Lorcan heard Elide struggling with something, her breaths puffed and huffy. 

“I- you can turn around,” Elide said. “I need… help.” 

Lorcan faced her and handed her the bowl and a spoon. “Eat first.” 

She rolled her eyes but gratefully accepted the dinner and ate ravenously. It was gone in minutes and she took the flatbread, ripping it up to wipe the dregs and eat them. Elide put the empty bowl down and wiped her lips with her thumb, brushing it off on the apron that was tied around her waist. She didn’t know why an oracle would need an apron, but she wouldn’t protest the added clothes. 

Then, Elide stood up, not having to bend to fit. “I need you to tie my laces. I can’t do it myself.” She turned, her cheeks burning in anticipation. 

She felt Lorcan stand, his breath fanning over the nape of her neck. The back of her dress was opened, exposing the smooth expanse of skin. His fingertips trailed up her spine and then his entire hand pressed against her back, his thumb stroking softly. Elide shuddered in relief, her eyes slipping shut. 

They didn’t exchange a single word as he laced her dress and tightened in snugly. Lorcan shifted the other shirts over it. “Is that alright, Marion?” 

“Elide,” she confessed, her shoulders curving. “My- my name is Elide Lochan. Marion… she was my mother.” The woman shook and stole a glance over her shoulder, as if fearing his reaction to her admission. 

Lorcan made himself take a step back, or as much as he could in this ridiculous tent. “I’m not going to hurt you, Elide.” His power slithered around inside of him, begging to be let out, to seek her. _She trusts us._ “I… already knew.” 

Elide pivoted quickly, her eyes widening, “How?” 

“You wrote it once.” _And you traced it with your finger and mouthed it. You smiled and slept so easily that night, only a foot away. You didn’t shiver at all._ “And… I’d heard rumours of the rightful heir of Perranth escaping Morath. They said she was carrying a stone of some sort. Something that Adarlan would pay for dearly.” 

She clicked her tongue and looked down, but Lorcan saw her relax. 

_She trusts me._

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asked quietly. “I- I lied to you.” 

He shrugged, “You didn’t owe me anything.” A teasing smirk found its way to his full lips. “I should’ve known better than to believe a mortal with witch blood.” 

Elide snorted, her shoulders shaking. When she looked up at him, her narrow eyes glittered with quiet joy, “Yes, you should have. I thought the Fae were wise.” 

_Wisdom fails when faced with a creature like you._ Lorcan just laughed quietly and when he opened his mouth to reply, Molly banged the wooden spoon on the big pot. 

Both Elide and Lorcan glared at the tent walls, directing their anger at the interruption. They glanced back at each other and shifted awkwardly. 

“I supposed you’ll have to save your insults for later then, Elide.” He had never said her name aloud like that and oh, what a divine sound it was. 

Elide laughed and smacked his arm. She slipped past him, one arm drawing the tent flaps back. “Will we meet here, then?” _Before we leave._

Lorcan took a moment to consider, “No. I will meet you at your tent. If Molly or Ombriel come to take your money, use this.” He bent, pulling a dagger from his boot. He handed it to Elide, who took it warily. “Is something wrong?” 

“You keep a knife in your boot?” 

“Yes. Don’t you?” 

She tucked the dagger beneath a belt. “No, I don’t. But I might, if I had some.” 

The dark-haired male grinned a feral grin and it was mirrored on her face. Elide glanced away and stepped back, giving him a sorry look. “I have to go now.” 

“Yes, you do. We’ll meet again.”

“Yes,” Elide said, dropping her eyes and looking up at him through her lashes. A blush bloomed across her cheeks. “We will. ” She disappeared, leaving Lorcan by himself. 

He stared at the last spot she’d been in until he finally cursed himself for his foolishness and stalked to the stage. 

For the next three hours, Lorcan threw his swords in the air, each trick more complicated than the last. He performed without humility, knowing he wasn’t a gifted performer and doing his best to show his distaste. 

He wondered how Elide was faring. 

<3<3<3

Elide flipped the sign and retreated into her tent. She took off her head scarves and tossed them carelessly to the side. She wouldn’t take them with her, hating how tight they were around her head. 

On the table, every fee she’d collected was in a squat pot. She sat and poured the coins out. The various copper, silver, and odd gold coins glinted in the candlelight. Though she couldn’t read, Elide could count money and did it well. 

After totalling it, Elide swept everything into a drawstring pouch. She tied it tightly and stood up. She quickly unwound the scarves from her waist and tucked it next to Lorcan’s dagger, which she pulled out and laid it on the table. 

She rebounded the swaths of fabric around her waist and wiped her shaking hands down her skirts. 

_Lorcan will be here soon. He won’t leave without you. He promised to come back to you._

Elide bit the inside of her cheek and watched the tent entrance. 

Only a minute later, they were opened. Elide gripped the hilt of the blade and hid her hand behind her body. She stepped backwards into the stance Manon had taught her. 

A large male came in and she relaxed. 

Lorcan carried his larger pack and her smaller one in his hand. Some strands of hair had escaped her braid and Elide glanced away so as to not fix them for him. She put the knife down. 

His eyes flicked to it and he raised his brows. Approval flashed across his harsh face. “Were you really going to use that?” 

She nodded, “Of course I would’ve used it.” No one would take advantage of her again. “Have you gotten everything?” 

Lorcan walked to her and nodded, “Yes. I just had to pick up one last thing.” 

Elide grinned in relief, finally knowing that this was real. Lorcan put their bags down and passed her her heavy cloak. She put it on and attached the snap at the neck. She flipped the hood up and donned her pack. 

After she had stuck the dagger through her belt, Elide looked up at Lorcan. 

He offered her his hand once more and rose a single brow, “Ready?” 

Elide took his hand and nodded. His power wrapped a little tighter around her ankle. 

With that, they left. 

The dark pair strode down the main path, hand in hand. They walked past the carriage. Lorcan kept his gaze forward, but Elide stared at Ombriel, Nic, and finally Molly. 

She let the disdain she had swallowed for _weeks_ show in her eyes and the cruel sneer on her lips. They cowered under her gaze and her gait became lighter. 

Lorcan glanced at her sidelong and chuckled. _You are a menace, Elide Lochan._

Her eyes met his. _Then we’re evenly matched, Lorcan Salvaterre._

The corners of his mouth curled up for a moment. “Hmm. Maybe so.” 

<3<3<3

Elide emerged from the woods, now dressed in her figure-hugging fur-lined leathers. She opened her pack and bent down to pack her costume away. 

Lorcan averted his eyes from her ass and said a low prayer. He would not think about her like that. Not now, at least, not when he’d seen her cry and shake like that. 

“And now why are you frowning,” she asked in a teasing tone. Elide sat next to him on the log, her shoulder pressed against his. 

“I’m not frowning,” he muttered, dragging the whetstone down the edge of his hatchet. 

She chuckled and tapped her fingertip against the wrinkle between his lowered brows. Lorcan blinked once. “Then what do you say this is?” 

Lorcan snapped his teeth towards her fingers and laughed when she shrieked, snatching her hand away. 

Elide clicked her tongue at him and shoved his shoulder, “Beastie.” 

“Witchling.” 

Her pleased grin didn’t go unnoticed by him and he tucked the image of it into his twisted heart. Elide pushed her hair behind her ear, “I- I wanted to say th—” 

“No. Don’t thank me. What I did does not deserve praise, Elide. It is a decency - something you should expect from everyone.” 

“But I—”

“Elide.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms across her chest. Lorcan subtly looked at her. Her cheeks were bright red and she wore a fierce frown. He knocked his shoulder into hers, “Don’t pout.” 

“I am not pouting,” she snapped, “I am _frustrated_ because you are an _ass_ , Lorcan.” 

Lorcan chuckled and Elide rolled her eyes, the ire melting from her fine-boned features. She watched him for a moment and smiled gently. 

Faster than he could detect, Elide kissed his cheek, lifting her hand to rest in on his forearm. His eyes widened and he froze. Her lips were so soft against his skin and she whispered, “Thank you, Lorcan.” 

She slipped away before he could say a word, blushing furiously. 

Elide did not dare look back, fearing the consequence of what she had done. If she had, she would’ve seen him still sitting in that same place, his fingers touching the spot where the feeling of her kiss lingered, looking like his entire world had shifted. 


End file.
